


Learning

by Luthien



Series: An Education [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien/pseuds/Luthien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle has learnt a lot of unexpected things since she found Rumpelstiltskin again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning

**Author's Note:**

> Set during 3x09 - Save Henry.

Belle has learnt a lot of unexpected things since she found Rumpelstiltskin again – since they found each other again – here in Storybrooke. And not just the sorts of unexpected things that are only to be expected in a world that has never known magic save in myth (and, occasionally, in secret).

She's learnt that in this world it's still possible to be a lady when your skirt reveals not just calf but knee, and sometimes thigh. She's learnt that shoes come with heels that are ridiculously, impractically high – so high that they make Belle tall enough to pull her love to her for a kiss without either of them having to stretch or strain for their mouths to find each other. (Maybe such shoes aren't so impractical after all.) And she's learnt that it's possible to spend the night not just in the house of the man you love but in his bed, and everyone knows it or at least suspects, but no one acts as though it's a thing worth remarking on, much less frowning at. (Though perhaps people are too polite to ask about that - or simply smart enough not to.)

And Belle's learnt countless things about Rumple himself, the small things and the not so small. She's learnt the feel of his lips against hers in ways other than that first tentative, terrible kiss. (Terrible as she knew it in the real world, that is, and not the erroneous manner in which the word is so often misapplied in this careless new world.) Passionate kisses, hungry kisses, deep and long and longing. Playful kisses, too. All sorts, with still more to discover, Belle feels sure, when Rumple comes back to her.

_When._

It can't be much longer now. She just has to be patient. She _will_ see him again. She told him that before he left. It took him a while to admit that she was right about that, but he did. She knew he would. Ariel brought the message from him just hours ago, so it can't be long now.

It _can't_ be.

Belle turns over in bed, dragging the covers with her. His bed, but sheets she chose, pale yellow sheets that are not so dark and masculine as the ones that were here before. _Theirs_.

Belle's learnt many things in this house, in this room, things that she'd never anticipated in the days when she was a girl in a castle, waiting for her real life to begin and determined to make it matter. Long before she went away with Rumpelstiltskin she knew how things worked between a woman and a man, the theory of it, the mechanics. There's always a book to be had on any subject, if you know where to look. But there are also things that no book can teach.

She's learnt to listen for Rumple's soft sigh after he turns out the bedside lamp at night. Sometimes he sighs against the pillow; more often he sighs into her hair as she snuggles in against him. She's learnt the feel of his hand, warm against her skin as it cups her breast in the dark. She's learnt the shape of Rumpelstiltskin's bare hip beneath her palm, not so softly padded as her own but silken smooth to the touch where skin cleaves close to bone.

_Mine._ The thought had come to her, the first time she touched him properly, skin against skin, with nothing coming between them at last.

Her hand goes to her breast now. Her nipple quickly goes hard at her own touch, flesh responding automatically to sensation, but her hand isn't large enough to enclose her breast completely and after a moment she lets it fall back down onto the mattress. She doesn't bother reaching down with her other hand to stroke along her hip or to stroke elsewhere.

Her own touch is worse than nothing. Her own hands are not what she wants.

_Mine._

Belle wants what is hers. She's learnt that all too well. She's learnt the nature of her own heart, this last week while he's been gone, learnt it better than she knew it before. Their parting has been different this time, different from all the other partings they've endured. This time they're both sure of who they are and what they feel, sure of exactly what they're giving up in their separation.

Belle's learnt possessiveness in a way she never understood, this last week while she's been alone. She doesn't like the feeling, and she knows it for what it is – greed dressed up in the trappings of love – but she can't let it go. Love is layered, as she told Rumpelstiltskin so long ago in a different life. And this possessiveness, this need, this _mine_ , is one such layer, one she never could have anticipated. She'd known about love then and yet she hadn't known, she hadn't _learnt_ yet.

Belle loves Rumple more than anything, and that love is a pure and beautiful thing – most of it. The layers that are darker, less pretty, are no less a part of it, though. That dark possessiveness may be unsettling, but it's the opposite of ephemeral or empty. It comes from the same deep places where their love for each other finds its strength. Perhaps those darker layers are the price that must be paid for a love worth having. An easy, untested romance, all hearts and flowers and promises, may never look less than perfect, but perhaps such a love won't be strong enough to last, either. Their love, hers and Rumple's, has weathered every storm.

And now he's going to come back to her, just like she told him he would.

Belle rolls over in bed again. The digital clock on the bedside table shows the time in cold, pale characters: 3:27. There are only a few hours left until dawn. Today will be, _must_ be the day – won't it?

She doesn't think that, after this, she will let Rumpelstiltskin go again. Not without her. Not without a promise to her, at the very least. A promise to come back, a promise that he's hers. A public promise.

In the real world – the _old_ world – it was the role of men to ask the important questions and, sometimes, the role of women to answer. More often, it was the role of women – of ladies – to keep a careful and dignified silence while their menfolk answered for them. Belle was never very good at silence, though she could manage dignity and care when the situation called for them, and when Rumpelstiltskin asked the question of her, made the deal with her, she answered for herself.

Belle's learnt a lot since she left that world. The rules aren't the same in this one. Here, a woman can wear what she wants, do what she wants and be what she wants. And ask what she wants, whether it's to request a man's company over a hamburger and fries, or to request something much more important. Something lasting.

It's Belle's turn to ask a question, and Rumpelstiltskin's turn to answer. He just has to come back to her first.

In the meantime, Belle will try to learn patience. She hopes she won't have to keep trying for long. She'd much rather learn his answer to her question.

Yes, Belle would like to learn that.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Telanu for looking this over and de-glitching it!


End file.
